Final day

Dear Blog

Thursday Nov. 5^th Costa Maya

 

We pulled into Costa Maya right at 7:00 a.m. Today is a “Blink and you’ll‑miss‑it stop” since we sailed away at 1:00 p.m. It’s a short day by design — this seven‑day itinerary has to hoof it all the way back to Galveston, which means tomorrow is a full sea day spent crossing the Gulf.

 

So, at 8:00 a.m., we headed out for an early morning walk down the long Costa Maya pier. It’s a surprisingly pretty stroll at that hour — hardly anyone around, vendors quietly opening their shops, birds doing their gentle tropical‑bird thing, and the whole port easing into the day. Costa Maya has everything: a swimming pool, a beach, a bird aviary, shops galore, and plenty of cruisers. But before the crowds spill off the ship and start lollygagging, it’s calm, clean, and almost serene.

 

We noticed a few passengers trying to cram in an excursion, but with the ship leaving at 1:00 p.m., everyone has to be back onboard by noon. Translation: no lingering, no dawdling, no “just one more margarita.” Watching the last‑minute sprinters make their dramatic return to the ship is one of our favorite forms of entertainment theater. Cruise ships run on strict schedules, “all aboard” is real, and the gangway goes up on time. They’ll wait for ship excursions, medical issues, or port authority orders — not for someone who lost track of time at Señor Frog’s.

 

After a great lunch on the pool deck, I stretched out with my latest Karin Slaughter book — a gritty crime story with usually ridden with the eternal truth that bad things happen to good people. Add that to my pre‑cruise Broadchurch Netflick series rewatch — a murder series not just who did it, but the emotional wreckage it leaves behind— and suddenly the ship started feeling like a floating crime drama.

Reading that stuff absolutely changes how you see people on vacation — every sunburned passenger suddenly has a backstory, every lounge‑chair hog becomes a morally complicated villain, and every pier runner looks like they’re sprinting for their life. LOL.

We ended up having dinner at “Ondt by Scarpetta”, the Italian restaurant on board. The funny thing is we originally thought the restaurant was named after Kay Scarpetta, the crime-solving Medical Examiner from Patricia Cornwall’s novels who happens to loves to cook Italian specialties. We have since learned that “scarpetta” is actually a term for using bread to soak up every last drop of sauce on your plate. Maybe we’ve been reading too many crime thrillers.

 

“I treat everyone like they’re innocent until my imagination proves otherwise.”

Jain Day 6

Dear Jay Gunsauls

Wednesday Nov. 4^th Belize Harvest Caye

At 8 a.m., we pull into Harvest Caye, Belize — NCL’s private island. Yes, it’s technically in Belize, but let’s be honest: this is not the “real” Belize. It’s a purpose‑built, 75‑acre resort designed so cruisers can relax, swim, and eat in a perfectly controlled “bubble”. Or, more accurately, it’s designed so NCL can keep everyone comfortably under its wing and encourage passengers to spend their hard‑earned vacation dollars right here, because everything on this island costs extra — unlike other cruise‑run islands where your ship card magically buys you drinks and lunch.

 

That said, Harvest Caye is undeniably pretty and peaceful. The centerpiece is a massive resort‑style pool that’s roughly the length of a football field and about half as wide, shaped into a very convincing “lake with a swim‑up bar.” It isn’t heated, but in 88‑degree Belize weather, “not heated” translates to “refreshing. There’s also a saltwater lagoon for people who enjoy water sports, and a 7‑acre beach.

Zip lining is available across the island, which for us remains a confident “No”. It is, however, mildly entertaining to point at the people dangling some 130 feet overhead and zipping in air some 3,000 feet in length and say, “Ahh, look at that,”

 

For the adventurous, there’s snorkeling at the Belize Barrier Reef second only to the Great Barrier Reef in Australia. This is, of course, something we also will not be doing. We already have our 20‑year‑old memories of snorkeling the actual Great Barrier Reef, and that’s plenty. At this age, the only thing we’re diving into is a lounge chair, and frankly, we’re quite good at it.

 

We had a perfectly pleasant day. We swam a little, read a little, and then took a short wander through the Wildlife area, gawking at parrots and toucans. We, like most people, like to gawk at them because they are colorful, they talk, pose well for photographs. It feels tropical and gives us that “we’re on vacation” feeling. We stepped into the butterfly enclosure, which was charming enough, and then very intentionally passed the snake pit because it’s an absolutely not.

 

By early afternoon, we were already strolling back to the ship for a free margarita — a choice many others also made, because deciding between a $15 margarita and a free one is not exactly a hard decision.

 

Tonight we were off to the Food Republic, a share everything and tapas style restaurant with fusion style dishes that you order on a tablet and are amazed when they actually show up at your table. Way too much food for such a small table. Maybe we ordered twice the lettuce wraps by mistake.

Jain Day 6

Dear Blog

Wednesday Nov. 4^th Belize Harvest Caye

At 8 a.m., we pull into Harvest Caye, Belize — NCL’s private island. Yes, it’s technically in Belize, but let’s be honest: this is not the “real” Belize. It’s a purpose‑built, 75‑acre resort designed so cruisers can relax, swim, and eat in a perfectly controlled “bubble”. Or, more accurately, it’s designed so NCL can keep everyone comfortably under its wing and encourage passengers to spend their hard‑earned vacation dollars right here, because everything on this island costs extra — unlike other cruise‑run islands where your ship card magically buys you drinks and lunch.

 

That said, Harvest Caye is undeniably pretty and peaceful. The centerpiece is a massive resort‑style pool that’s roughly the length of a football field and about half as wide, shaped into a very convincing “lake with a swim‑up bar.” It isn’t heated, but in 88‑degree Belize weather, “not heated” translates to “refreshing. There’s also a saltwater lagoon for people who enjoy water sports, and a 7‑acre beach.

Zip lining is available across the island, which for us remains a confident “No”. It is, however, mildly entertaining to point at the people dangling some 130 feet overhead and zipping in air some 3,000 feet in length and say, “Ahh, look at that,”

 

For the adventurous, there’s snorkeling at the Belize Barrier Reef second only to the Great Barrier Reef in Australia. This is, of course, something we also will not be doing. We already have our 20‑year‑old memories of snorkeling the actual Great Barrier Reef, and that’s plenty. At this age, the only thing we’re diving into is a lounge chair, and frankly, we’re quite good at it.

 

We had a perfectly pleasant day. We swam a little, read a little, and then took a short wander through the Wildlife area, gawking at parrots and toucans. We, like most people, like to gawk at them because they are colorful, they talk, pose well for photographs. It feels tropical and gives us that “we’re on vacation” feeling. We stepped into the butterfly enclosure, which was charming enough, and then very intentionally passed the snake pit because it’s an absolutely not.

 

By early afternoon, we were already strolling back to the ship for a free margarita — a choice many others also made, because deciding between a $15 margarita and a free one is not exactly a hard decision.

 

Tonight we were off to the Food Republic, a share everything and tapas style restaurant with fusion style dishes that you order on a tablet and are amazed when they actually show up at your table. Way too much food for such a small table. Maybe we ordered twice the lettuce wraps by mistake.

Jain Day 5

Dear Blog

Tuesday Nov. 3^rd Roatan

 

Jay finally remembered how to get pics in my stories.

Today we’re in Roatán, Honduras — which has confused several passengers who are wandering around saying things like, “How did we get from Mexico to Honduras overnight?” The answer is simple: the ship moved. People really need to look at a map.

 

Roatán sits about 40 miles off Honduras, tropical and calm, noticeably safer and more prosperous than the mainland thanks to cruise money. It’s gorgeous, but you have to dodge the cruise‑port chaos and tourist traps. We headed straight to Sol y Mar Beach Club, a quiet little pocket wrapped around a shallow, calm lagoon. Best part: no aggressive vendors doing the “You buy from me?” ambush. Bliss.

 

We spent the day in our floaty recliners — inflatable tubes with a soft net sling that basically turn the ocean into an 86‑degree armchair. Perfect in calm water.

 

We skipped lunch. Island dishes lean heavily on bananas and coconuts, which land firmly in our “no, thanks” category. I’m anti‑banana because a former coworker used to toss her peel into her trash can and let it perfume the entire office. Another coworker would retrieve it and drop it on the floor beside her desk as payback. Workplace enrichment at its finest.

 

Jay isn’t into coconuts. After a few childhood years in the Philippines, coconuts weren’t a treat — they were the everything. There’s an ad that says, “people are cuckoo for coconuts;” Jay simply is not.

 

While we floated, plenty of passengers went off to find Roatán’s sloths, monkeys, iguanas, parrots, and whatever else is out there living its best life. Sloths are cute, slow, very “namaste, I live in a tree.” Monkeys?

 

Absolutely not. After Africa, I’ve completed the monkey portion of my life. They’re fast, chaotic, and will swipe your food or your bag before you blink.

 

Back on the ship, we cleaned up and headed to Cagney’s — the usual ritual. Big steak, big potato, the cruise‑world shrine. We skipped the Monkey La La (fresh banana, coconut cream, vodka, Kahlúa, Baileys, chocolate) and went with pinot gris instead.

 

Overall, a good day. Tomorrow is Belize. As they used to say on Days of Our Lives: “Like sands through the hourglass, so are the days of our lives.”

Day 4 Story

Dear Blog

Day 4, November 2^nd Cozumel, Mexico

 

At 8 a.m. we pulled into Cozumel, Mexico — famous for its beaches, snorkeling, and diving. We’d researched beach clubs with loungers, umbrellas, calm water, limited guests, and a quick taxi ride from the port. Basically, our exact vibe. But by the time we chose one, it was already full.

 

A quick check explained why: four cruise ships in port, roughly 19,000 passengers pouring ashore. With that kind of crowd, we decided this was the perfect day to stay onboard. It was the first stop of the cruise, and I’d bet about 89% of guests were heading out — which meant the ship would be wonderfully quiet. And it was.

 

Cruise ships offer every kind of activity imaginable: shore excursions, theater shows, thrill rides (roller coasters, water slides, race tracks), deck parties, dance parties, exercise classes, trivia, bingo, spa time, pools, hot tubs, karaoke, casino games, and even napkin folding. Yes, we actually did that once. It was a long cruise.

 

The variety exists because everyone has their own idea of fun. I know this better than most — five years running a senior center, three years managing a YMCA, and later building a community education program for a college. We offered all the non‑credit “fun” classes: gardening, Tai Chi, ballroom dancing, computer basics, even how to plan walking trips on historic footpaths in England. Higher ed can get a little snooty about anything outside academia, but my program earned real respect because it filled a need and brought in serious revenue. Plenty of people already had their degrees; they just wanted to keep learning and explore new interests.

 

After all those years, one truth stands: everyone has their own comfort zone and curiosity. Give people options, and they’ll drift toward whatever speaks to them. No right, no wrong. But some choices do make you quietly think, well… what the hell.

So, what kind of fun did we choose today? Pure poolside bliss. I ordered Diet Coke, Jay went for the Bahama Mama (which is practically an activity by itself), and we split a juicy burger with fries delivered right to our loungers. We sat there soaking in the views across the water, eating our burgers, and enjoying the quiet. Honestly, it doesn’t get better than that.

 

Tonight we went to Le Bistro, the upscale French restaurant where we go when we want to pretend we’re elegant. It’s French and moody and the French Onion soup is delicious. I chose to let the snails remain exactly where they belong, on someone else’s plate.

 

 

Jaiin Day 3

Blog

Sunday, Nov. 1st Sea Day

 

Galveston seems to be an old gulf harbor town that is a little worn, a bit gritty but surprising likeable for its attempt to be like New Orleans.

 

Yesterday when we sailed out, it struck me that leaving Galveston is not what anyone would call beautiful. You start off surrounded by a massive cruise terminal, endless parking lots, warehouses, and every piece of port machinery known to mankind — very industrial, not scenic.

 

But once the ship makes a long, slow turn toward the Gulf, everything shifts. The channel stretch is so much nicer than the dock: more coastal, more open, and full of wildlife. Pelicans were literally flying right alongside us like they were our personal escort team.  And then, the moment you clear the channel, it becomes a completely different world — wide blue water, warm Gulf breeze, and yesterday we lucked into a golden sunset. We watched it from the Observation Lounge, panoramic windows glowing, sitting in a comfy chair with an equally comfy glass of wine.

 

Today is a sea day we will be cruising through the Gulf of America to Mexico some 600 miles to reach our first port, Cozumel. As I have probably said a zillion times, I like sea days they are relaxing, you pick and choose when and where you go and door chose to do nothing and read that $20.00 book you picked up at the thrift store for a buck. It is the sea days where you really begin to appreciate the cruise ship and an important part of the cruise, the food.

 

We’ve been cruising for about 20 years, and it really feels like cruise‑ship dining — and even nice restaurant dining — just isn’t what it used to be. Back on our first cruise, the waiters would march in at the end of dinner with baked Alaska under silver lids, parade through the dining room, stop at each table, lift the lid, and Wa-la — flames, drama, the whole show. It felt special. It felt memorable.

 

Now? Prices are up, quality is down, and that “wow” factor has faded. Everyone’s dealing with the same problems: rising costs, staffing shortages, and menus built around safe, cheap crowd‑pleasers. So, everything ends up tasting… fine. Not bad. Not great. Just okay. Both cruises and restaurants aim for “no complaints” instead of excellence, which is why the food feels mild, predictable, and a little boring.

Excellence is expensive. Mediocrity is profitable.

 

So, what did we have for dinner last night? The popular dishes everyone else probably ordered too. shrimp cocktail, the lamb chop for Jay, steak for me. These days lobster or ‘surf and turf’ is not offered every night on a cruise; it is only available at the specialty restaurants you pay extra for.

 

This morning Jay ordered Eggs Benedict — very fancy — and it arrived beautifully plated. He loved it. But honestly, when you break it down, it’s an English muffin, an under‑cooked egg, a slice of ham, and a sauce someone had to whip into existence. The only truly “fancy” part is the hollandaise, which is basically warm butter beaten into submission.

And that’s the magic: we would never make this at home. Whipping up hollandaise on a Wednesday morning? Or a Sunday? Absolutely not. That’s never happening in our kitchen.

 

Maybe that’s exactly why cruising feels indulgent. We get to eat things we’d never bother making ourselves. Too much work, too much fuss — and that’s what makes meals fun out at sea. Someone else is waiting on you, pampering you, reminding you that you’re on vacation and your only job is to enjoy it.

 

So tonight, after dinner were off to the show Motor City Moves supposably a high energy tribute to Detroit iconic sound.

 

Tell you about it tomorrow.

 

Jain Day 2

Blog

Saturday October 31^st Mexico Cruise

 

Yesterday, after landing at Hobby Airport in Houston, we grabbed a cab and headed toward our hotel. Our driver, Herb, was right on time. We actually found him through online reviews — who knew taxi drivers had Yelp‑style fan clubs? — and he lived up to every glowing comment. reliable, friendly, and apparently the kind of driver who’ll even swing by Buc‑ee’s so passengers can stock up on snacks for the hour‑long ride to Galveston. We didn’t feel the need to stop for Buc‑ee’s sweet tea or that famous Beaver Nugget stuff — supposedly caramel‑coated corn puffs that Texans swear are perfect for road‑trip munching — but Herb still got us to Galveston to the Tremont Hotel without a hitch.

 

The Tremont House is a restored historic hotel in the middle of Galveston’s Strand District. The rooms are simple, comfortable, and have that “boutique historic” vibe instead of the usual chain‑hotel copy‑paste. The best part is the location — you can walk to restaurants, shops, and the cruise terminal without dealing with shuttles or chaos.

 

After a free breakfast we rolled our suitcases about a block to the Norwegian VIVA. The ship is beautiful. Our Haven Penthouse is, too. The Haven is NCL’s quiet little bubble: private elevators, butlers, and lounges with their own restaurant, bar, pool, and sun deck. This is what I call a Vacation with a capital V. It costs more — and yes, it’s worth it.

 

As with any first day on a cruise, people‑watching becomes the ship’s most unpublished activity, everyone does but nobody admits to. The characters are already in full bloom the moment you step onboard.

 

You’ve got Deck Walker already doing laps with the intensity of someone training for a triathlon. The Chair Napper, asleep in a lounger at 9 AM, 11 AM, 2 PM, the Overly Friendly Guy, determined to learn where you’re from, what you do, your cat’s name, and whether you’ve ever considered moving to Arizona. The Glamour Couple, dressed like they’re attending the Oscars even at breakfast — she’s in sequins, he’s in linen, both wearing sunglasses indoors. Of course, to balance those out the people there are those blissfully unaware that “smart casual” does not mean swim trunks and a tank top. And lastly of course, the ‘I Paid for this cruise lady’ loudly reminding everyone she intends to get her money’s worth while arguing with a bartender about the drink package or always at the concierge desk asking for something, anything.

 

And if you really want entertainment, head to the buffet. That’s where people‑watching goes from a casual pastime to a full‑blown art form. Every deck, lounge, and buffet line turns into a stage of characters who don’t even know they’re performing — that’s entertainment. Enough said. We’re seasoned cruisers at this point; we know what makes us happy. Give us easy luxury and comfortable surroundings, and we slip into cruise rhythm instantly. Meanwhile, we stay endlessly entertained by the people who haven’t figured it out yet.

 

It’s Halloween on the VIVA and many guests are dressed up. Some probably won’t look much different tomorrow morning.

 

See you tomorrow.